Long Marches, Through Day and Night
by ncfan
Summary: This is what happens to Nanao in one day, one night, and the next morning. Her strength shows through in so many ways. Ukitake x Nanao, slight Shunsui x Nanao.


**Characters**: Nanao, Shunsui, Hinamori, Rangiku, Hitsugaya, Nemu, Ukitake**  
Summary**: This is what happens to Nanao in one day, one night, and the next morning. Her strength shows through in so many ways. Ukitake x Nanao, slight Shunsui x Nanao.**  
Pairings**: Ukitake x Nanao, slight Shunsui x Nanao**  
Warnings/Spoilers**: Spoilers for Soul Society arc**  
Timeline**: Post-Soul Society arc, pre-Arrancar arc**  
Authors' Note**: I love Nanao, so that's what's brought me to this character study of her. I've written Nanao to be just a little self-righteous at times; she's a perfectionist, and justifiably has a high opinion of her own intellect and reasoning powers. But you think, that in the situation she's in, that she has a bit of a right to be self-righteous, right? Also, I write her as a confident person, so be prepared for all of that, too.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach.

* * *

Nanao's mornings almost always find her in her office, handling the finances of her division with professional calm and surprising cheerfulness—Nanao is a morning person—while sipping down her morning cup of tea; Nanao has already eaten breakfast and considers it a bit of a hazard, not to mention downright unprofessional.

Usually, finishing the finances in the morning gives her the afternoon free, and Nanao spends her afternoons either visiting friends or keeping a close watch on her captain to make sure he doesn't bring shame to the name of the Eighth division or ruin his reputation or put himself in harm's way while engaging in his daily activities. Unfortunately, these three scenarios seem to crop up a lot.

And sometimes, Shunsui starts early, so Nanao spends her entire day chasing after him through all of Seireitei and, much to her annoyance, she's left doing paperwork and finances well into the night.

Not this morning, though. This morning is going to be nice and quiet, Nanao tells herself, willing herself to believe it. This morning will be just like the ideal Nanao has set up for herself, quiet, peaceful, uneventful, filled with calculated equations that will be the absolute only thing cluttering her brain.

What Nanao has discovered, is that when she commits to a plan, even without writing it down, that automatically seems to qualify it for immediate sabotage. Nanao isn't a normally paranoid person, but she feels, sometimes, as though people possess preternatural knowledge of when she has plans and instantly start to work to bring about the ruin of said plans.

"Nanao-chan?" Shunsui's lazy drawl (not even blurred by sake! …Yet.) filters into the room from the door left slightly ajar, as he wheels himself in, whistling cheerily as he doesn't bother to knock and doesn't bother to close the door behind him. Nanao has always been irritated by these careless habits, but he either doesn't notice or simply pays her no heed.

Nanao adjusts her glasses, not getting up from her desk, though the mug of tea is set down on its metal coaster. "Good morning, Kyouraku-taicho," she greets him calmly, returning to spreadsheets and sums that need calculating. Small, pale hands run across paper.

"One of the officers—" and by this Nanao is sure Shunsui means one of the officers in the Eighth division "—is holding his birthday party today. I told him I'd bring you there."

Nanao shakes her head at Shunsui incredulously, mouth falling open, as she spreads her hands and gestures to the papers on her desk. "Kyouraku-taicho, the paperwork's backed up from here to Zaraki. I can't possibly take time off now."

"But I promised Minami you'd be there! You can't be so cruel as to make a liar out of me now, Nanao-chan."

The lieutenant of the Eighth division tightens her lips as she dips her pen in deep black ink. "As I but rarely attend social gathering of this nature, Kyouraku-taicho, I doubt I'll be missed."

"Nonsense!" Gently but firmly, Shunsui leans down and put a hand under the crook of Nanao's arm, and starts to lead her away from her desk. "You need to get out more, Nanao-chan. Staying inside all day isn't good for you."

"Alright! Alright! Just let go! And it's not all day; it's just all _morning_. There's a difference."

.

Nanao, albeit reluctantly and somewhat unwillingly, allows Shunsui to take her to Minami's birthday part, and once they're there and the pleasantries are said, she takes the opportunity to sneak away. It's far easier to lose someone or give someone the slip in a crowd, and Shunsui doesn't even notice she's gone. Once Nanao's gotten out of the reception hall where the party's being held and presses her back against the polished wood door, she breathes a sigh of relief.

Immediately, she retreats to her office and starts back on her paperwork, dipping pen in ink and scratching out characters diligently.

Then, it hits her.

If Shunsui realizes she's gone, this is the first place he'll look. And Nanao _really_ doesn't want to go back to that party.

She bites her lip, staring down at the paperwork, before making up her mind. The paperwork will have to wait.

Nanao grabs a book out of her bedroom and vacates the premises faster than a bat out of Hell.

.

"Hinamori-san?" Nanao knocks gently on Hinamori's hospital door to announce her presence before letting herself in. "I brought another book, in case you finished the last one."

Hinamori smiles weakly at Nanao from her bed, her skin waxen and pasty, purple marks written with eloquence under her soft brown eyes. Rangiku is sitting on the edge of the bed, about halfway down, with her, lounging with feline grace as she turns her pale, piercing eyes on Nanao, a saucy smile forming on full lips. "Join the party."

Nanao's mouth tightens primly. "I just _left_ the party, thank you, Matsumoto-san."

As she leans over the bedside stand, Hinamori whispers, "I'm done with the book you gave me last time, Ise-san." She pauses hesitantly. "I liked it very much."

Wordlessly, Nanao nods, plucks up the book on the stand, and puts down the book she's brought, before moving to sit in the windowsill.

"What do you mean by "just left the party", Nanao?" Rangiku leans back on one hand, smiling curiously at her bespectacled friend.

A smile flashes briefly as light shines off of Nanao's glasses; she is silhouetted by the sunlight behind her. "Kyouraku-taicho decided to take me to a birthday party, despite my protests and without my foreknowledge; it wouldn't be the first time. I left. I think this is the first time _I've_ ever had occasion to run from my captain, instead of the other way around."

Rangiku snickers while Hinamori shakes her head. "That's not very nice, Ise-san."

"It's not very nice to take me away from my paperwork without letting me get it done first, either," Nanao retorts, shaking black bangs out of her face. "Kyouraku-taicho knows as well as I do that there's work to be done, especially since all the property damage that took place a few weeks back."

Rangiku, blasé as ever, just rolls her eyes and flicks back her blonde hair. "Who cares about work? The weather's great; I'd rather be doing fun stuff than filling out paperwork."

"I guess that's why Hitsugaya-taicho hasn't come out of his office for three days."

The blonde laughs. "Maybe!" Changing the subject with relish, she giggles, "Hinamori and I were just talking about who we think is the most manipulative Shinigami in Seireitei."

Nanao doesn't bother asking how they came to this topic of conversation; knowing Rangiku, she probably pulled it clean out of the blue. Instead, she smiles encouragingly at Hinamori and asks, "And?"

The younger girl shyly twiddles with her pale blue bed sheets before answering. "I thought Kusajishi-san qualifies, since she always gets everyone who meets her to give her candy."

"That and she's roped nearly every man she's ever met into letting her ride on their shoulders if they're big enough to carry her. I remember when she got Kyouraku-taicho to do it."

Rangiku smirks. "Yeah, Yachiru is plenty manipulative, but frankly, I can't help but think that you qualify for the title, Nanao."

This is news to Nanao. She frowns inquisitively, quirking her head to one side. "What makes you say that?"

Golden hair shakes as Rangiku giggles again, pressing a hand over her mouth to hide her growing smile. "Because you've got two of the oldest captains in the Gotei Thirteen wrapped around your little finger." She wriggles her own little finger for emphasis. "Of course, you've probably slept with both of them at one point or another, so that helps."

"_I _don't think you've ever had to sleep with someone to get them to respect them, Ise-san," Hinamori protests loyally.

Nanao nods in acknowledgement as she slides down from the windowsill and tucks the book Hinamori's already read into the front of her kosode. "Thank you, Hinamori-san." Stopping in doorway, she flashes a rare smirk at Rangiku. "And for your information, Matsumoto-san, I've only slept with one of them." Seeing Rangiku open her mouth, she adds, "And it's _not_ Kyouraku-taicho."

For a moment, all is silent. Then, Rangiku falls back on the bed, hand over her eyes, laughing so hard she's screaming. "I knew it!" she crows. "I knew it!"

Hinamori squeaks in pain. "Oww, my legs!" Then, she stops. And gapes. And gawks. "You and _Ukitake-taicho_?" she gasps disbelievingly.

Nanao only smirks again as she shuts the door behind her.

.

Hitsugaya is indeed swamped under with paperwork. Bowled over by it, in fact; the stacks on his desk are such that Nanao can't see his head for all the paper, and he doesn't hear her come in at first.

The curtains on the windows have been thrown open, as have the windows themselves, letting in the vivid sunlight and late afternoon heat. A bee buzzes in, lazily, before zipping back out the window from whence it came. Nanao hastily removes her waraji before stepping onto the carpet; she can hear the scratching of a pen from behind the stack of paper on the captain's desk.

"Matsumoto?" Hitsugaya's mistaken the sound of Nanao's footfalls for those of his own lieutenant. "It's about time you showed up," the youthful captain grumbles. "Have you got any idea how backed up we are?"

"Wrong lieutenant, Hitsugaya-taicho," Nanao corrects him gently, moving aside a stack of paper so he can see her. Turquoise eyes squint up at her, myopic and weak from staring at tiny characters for so long.

"If you've come here to help, great," the white-haired boy grunts. "Pull up a chair. If not, get out."

Nanao decides not to point out that it's rude to speak in such a way to someone more than twice his age, even if he does outrank her. She also refrains from telling Hitsugaya that she has come "to liberate him from the tyranny of the Tenth division's paperwork" as he either won't appreciate the levity or will assume that Nanao is trying to treat him as a child. Instead, she simply does as Hitsugaya requested, pulls a chair over to his desk, and silently starts to sift through eyesores of paper.

Hitsugaya nods up at her (Nanao is literally a foot taller than him), unable to hide the relief in his eyes. "Thanks, Ise. This is ridiculous, isn't it?" he exclaims irritably, gesticulating at all the clutter.

"Yes, it is," she replies absently, having already gotten into work mode, which only allows her to pay a small amount of attention to what's going on around her. "It's like this at the Eighth, too, and everywhere else, I suspect."

Nanao looks up when she can feel the youthful captain of the Tenth's eyes burning holes into the side of her head. "You shouldn't have to be doing this." Hitsugaya's voice is indignant as though he's just figured that out for himself. "Where's Matsumoto? _She's_ the one who's supposed to help me with this; you shouldn't have to be looking at any of this stuff except for what goes with your division."

Hitsugaya's earnestness is sweet, but really unnecessary. Nanao knows that whoever's paperwork she's doing, it'll be to the benefit of her own division because less paperwork for the Gotei Thirteen in general means less paperwork for the Eighth Division in particular.

"Where _is_ Matsumoto, anyway?" His voice has lowered to a growl, something very typical of him, and Nanao can't help but think that if Hitsugaya were just two heads taller, it might actually be a little imposing. She doesn't tell him that; that would be incredibly improper… and the reaction it would elicit out of Hitsugaya would probably make Nanao laugh. She has an image to keep up. "Ise, have you seen Matsumoto?"

Honesty prevails. "Yes, sir. She's in the hospital, visiting Hinamori-san. I saw her when I went to give Hinamori-san a new book to read."

And with that, all the annoyed hot air funnels out of him. He seems just a little subdued, in fact, or maybe sad; it's hard to tell. "That's… nice of her."

Nanao nods neutrally, peering steadily at Hitsugaya out of the corner of one bluish eye to measure his reaction. "Yes, it was. I don't think Hinamori-san gets too many visitors at the hospital."

"Maybe I should…go see her soon."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate it greatly, sir."

.

One of the commonly accepted wisdoms of the Gotei Thirteen is that when there's trouble, either the Eleventh or the Twelfth division is always behind it. And when it's them both together, then the trouble will inevitably be twice as bad.

Just as the night has cast a deep blue veil across the sky and the moon has begun its steady ascent through the sky, Nanao comes upon two groups of Shinigami, from different divisions (she's assuming; it's not always easy to tell), getting ready, it looks like, to start a riot. Insults are being exchanged, fists and zanpakutos being drawn.

After a moment—she just needs a moment—Nanao realizes the two sides are from the Eleventh and Twelfth divisions, and that the Eleventh's charge is being led by that idiot of a third seat of theirs, Madarame Ikkaku.

It looks like it's going to get down to a fight; _God, I don't even know what this all's about._

Nanao looks around, and sighs. She sees no reasonable, level-headed, and most importantly _sober _authority figures around.

That leaves her.

Nanao takes it upon herself to play the role of one man riot police, marching up with her best death glare affixed to her face and demanding to know what exactly is going on. Nothing is done by either side except to have Madarame tell her to get out of the way, as they're about to have a rumble and Nanao probably doesn't want to get involved about that. He never so much as looks at her, just shoot murderous glares at the Twelfth division members, as if he's going to gut them all just by looking at them.

It's at this point that Nanao draws her zanpakuto, light from the lanterns hung on the eaves surrounding the streets flashing dangerously off of her glasses as she does so.

A small scuffle ensues between Nanao and the offending gangs from the Eleventh and Twelfth divisions. A scuffle in which the Twelfth division underestimates Nanao's ability with kido and the Eleventh division _vastly_ underestimates Nanao's skill with a sword. She proceeds to outclass them both at their own game.

The two divisions back off from each other and Nanao for a moment, staring at her cagily, and in that moment Nanao knows that she has won the Eleventh's respect and the Twelfth's wariness (they've finally found someone scarier than their captain). Then, of course, they completely disregard the fact that there's an irate lieutenant standing between and start the riot in earnest.

Nanao does her best to both stop the riot and not get killed in the process. No one can hear her desperately shouting voice over the din, and even if they could, they wouldn't listen.

And soon Nanao comes to a horrifying realization. _Nemu_, of all people, has joined the fray, presumably for the same purpose as Nanao, to break it up. Of course, Nemu, being a doormat par excellence, doesn't get very far.

Thanks to her nature, Nemu can not wield a zanpakuto and instead, when she uses a sword at all, just uses a regular katana. Second, Nemu's hand-to-hand combat skills, while formidable, work best on a single opponent and work better when she has a decent amount of foot room. Nemu has neither of these factors to work in her favor tonight, and she soon goes down under the throng of combatants.

"Kurotsuchi-san!"

Hopes to break up the riot go on the backburner. Nanao is now first and foremost concerned with getting to her friend.

That's when the fist (_of some Eleventh division punk, _Nanao thinks irritably later) comes out of nowhere and connects with her face.

And that's when Nanao stops worrying about breaking up the fray altogether.

Some idiot has just tried to give her a black eye. Nanao's fairly certain she's bleeding, her head is spinning, and as far as she's concerned, these idiots can take their own chances. They can all die and go to Hell for all she cares.

Nanao just grabs Nemu and runs.

.

Once they've stopped running, Nanao is gasping and trying to catch her breath, when reality hits her like a ton of bricks.

This is going to be the cause of _so much_ unpleasant paperwork.

She slaps her forehead in pure frustration.

.

When Nanao draws her hand away from her temple, she realizes that it is wet. She peers closer, and sees blood on her palm.

Immediately, her eyes are drawn to Nemu. As far as she knows, nothing that's happened to Nemu that night is enough to have drawn blood out of the at times inhumanly durable girl. Nemu meets her gaze nervously, vivid green eyes almost fearful.

And Nanao drags Nemu, now protesting and cringing away from her tight grip on Nemu's arm, back to the Eighth division.

.

Nanao knows that practically tossing Nemu into her bedroom in the Eighth division quarters at one in the morning and slamming the door behind her will be fodder for the rumor mills for weeks to come, but for once in her life, keeping up appearance of what's proper and deflecting scandal from herself is the last thing on her mind. This impromptu little slumber party of theirs, Nanao gets the feeling, is going to be anything but pleasurable anyway.

While Nemu goes and sits down on the edge of the bed, Nanao flips on the overhead lights and goes and closes the wide mini blinds on the window that, at one corner of her room, extends from floor to ceiling. Then, she firmly tells Nemu to strip down to her undergarments.

Nemu has been conditioned to obedience, but she strips of the outer layer of her abbreviated shihakusho only reluctantly, plainly nervous of what she knows is coming, and flicks her thick black braid over her shoulder and out of the way.

Nanao finds exactly what she expected to find, but it doesn't make her feel any better. If anything, surveying the landscape of purple, blue, yellow, green and brown marks across Nemu's back, bruised like a piece of battered fruit, punctuated with gashes that have mostly stopped bleeding, except for that one stretching across her right arm, oozing red like a chasm reluctantly giving up its water, makes her feel far, far worse.

"God _Almighty_, Kurotsuchi-san!" Nanao groans, thinking up the incantations for healing kido as she groans. "How did this happen?" She already has a good idea of how it happened.

At that point, Kurotsuchi Mayuri chooses to barge in, Nanao stands up to face him squarely, while Nemu in the background starts the process of pulling her clothes back on, mortified, trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

Mayuri has a bone to pick with Nanao over the kido she blasted at the members of his division a few hours back. In short, he maintains, loudly, that her kido has irreparably damaged the sensitive machinery Twelfth division members carry within them (implants, Nanao realizes, half-fascinated, half-repulsed), and that there's no way to replace it as long as they remain in the human body, et cetera, and that he wants reparations.

In short, Nanao has caused property damage, and Mayuri wants restitution.

Nanao likes to think that she is more than appropriately polite with him, even managing to attach a bland half-smile to her face despite the sickened, vitriolic sensations bubbling up like bile in her stomach as she stares at his painted face. Personally, it's all she can do not to fly at him and either chase him out of the Eighth division or simply try to kill him, but somehow, she finds the self-control to be civil as she tells him that that's a matter he'll have to take up with Shunsui.

Mayuri nods curtly. It's only then that he notice Nemu sitting on the edge of the bed, now fully-dressed with her hands on her knees. She is remarkably calm (_How can she be so calm? _Nanao rages inwardly), green eyes placid and tranquil, staring blankly at her father/captain. Like a lamb waiting expectantly, even eagerly, to be led to the slaughter.

Mayuri then looks at Nanao and sharply barks at her, almost as an afterthought, that he's come to collect his lieutenant as well. Nanao doubts he even knew Nemu was here, and if he did, he surely didn't care.

Nanao steps between father and daughter and informs the former, icily, that it can wait until morning.

He protests.

And Nanao loses her temper and, in no uncertain terms, tells Mayuri to get out.

.

"So you really did try to break up a riot last night." Ukitake's voice is both amused and sympathetic as he gently touches the area at the outer edges of Nanao's right eye.

She flinches away ruefully. There is now a half-ring at the outer rim of her right eye, bruised and forming a red seam where she had been scratched. Nanao has _not_ been given a black eye as she had initially feared, but the right hand frame of her glasses is bent. "Not one of my better decisions," she tells Ukitake self-deprecatingly, smiling in embarrassment.

It's morning again; Nanao's trying not to think of the paperwork that has surely backed up in her office, having fled to the relative peace of the Thirteenth division headquarters.

Ukitake leans over the morning cup of coffee—as opposed to Shunsui and Nanao, he prefers coffee over tea—and draws in a deep draught. For once, he doesn't seem to be afflicted with the coughing fits that come as an inevitable symptom of his tuberculosis. He smiles up at her. "Brave, though. And the Eleventh division is certainly looking at the Eighth with new respect!"

Nanao smiles briefly, leaning comfortably against Ukitake's desk as the latter gets down to his paperwork. She always offers to help Ukitake, but for some reason, he always insists on doing his paperwork himself, despite knowing that she's fully capable of helping.

Ukitake reaches out and touches her hand to get her attention. Nanao turns from her contemplation of the wall hanging to meet his mirthful gaze. "So I take it yesterday was plenty eventful for you, Ise-san?"

She laughs slightly. "Plenty."

At that point, Nanao takes one look at Ukitake's desk and tells him to move over and let her help.

For once, Ukitake doesn't protest.


End file.
